


but i know (you got a man!)

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (???), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Anal Sex, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Dirty Talk, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Implied Switching, Japanese Men’s National Volleyball Team (Haikyuu!!), Light Dom/sub, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Spitroasting, Top Sakusa Kiyoomi, Top Ushijima Wakatoshi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sakusa can’t believe his eyes.“W-Wakatoshi! Uhn-Oh! So deep!”Or his ears, apparently.“Too deep, too deep—Sl-slow down—“He didn’t even know Atsumu’s voice could go that high.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Miya Atsumu/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 336
Collections: Anonymous





	but i know (you got a man!)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this fic is in honor of [plumtrees](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees) making their return to the haikyuu!! fandom after 3 something-odd years with an [absolutely banger ushisakuatsu fic.](https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/28669674/chapters/70281963) we've missed you, and after reading _(don't) touch_ i wrote this in a day with a single-minded determination unlike anything i've written before.
> 
> as you might have been able to tell this fic is a bit... not woke of me, or _problematique_ as the kids might say. i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, my h-word brain took the wheel on this one.
> 
> if you have any triggers, please check out the additional laundry list of warnings in the end notes before reading.

Sakusa can’t believe his eyes.

“W-Wakatoshi! Uhn-Oh! So deep!”

Or his ears, apparently.

“Too deep, too deep—Sl-slow down—“

He didn’t even know Atsumu’s voice could go that high. 

“That’s the point, you cockslut.”

Ushijima’s dirty talk is so…  _ out of character. _ Sakusa can barely reconcile the idea of  _ dirty talk _ and  _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _ together. 

The same thing goes for  _ submissive _ and  _ Miya Atsumu. _

That’s what makes it so erotic. It’s like someone plucked a fantasy straight from the recesses of his mind.

But that's the thing. It's a _fantasy._ He shouldn’t actually be here.

Sakusa watches on, unable to look away as Ushijima rails his teammate even faster. Atsumu openly sobs, interspersed with choked moans as the man behind him adjusts the angle of his hips. Ushijima, in contrast, sounds unaffected, apathetic, as if Atsumu is nothing but a sleeve for him to fuck into. 

Sakusa wonders if his face is telling a different story.

From this angle, he can only see the reflection of the back of Ushijima’s head and the wide expanse of his back. His green hair shines, water dripping from his hair from his shower. From underneath his pants, his glutes flex with the rhythm of his fucking, his strength more apparent than ever. (Sakusa wonders if he’ll be able to see little finger-shaped bruises when Atsumu raises his arms at practice, the hem of his shirt lifting to expose a strip of skin above his shorts.)

To top it off, he stands there, just  _ taking _ Atsumu from behind. His arms tense as he grasps Atsumu’s hips tighter. While Ushijima’s only half-naked, Atsumu is completely bare. He has him bent over, hands braced against the wall, perky little ass jutting out like a whore for hire. His normally perfect blonde hair is dishevelled, sex-mussed strands sticking out here and there. Every once in a while, Atsumu will go up on his tippy toes, leaning forward to get some relief from Ushijima’s abrasive treatment, but Ushijima will fuck him faster in response. Atsumu cries out and falls back onto his heels, his knees almost buckling.

_ God. _

Ushijima moves a hand so it’s on Atsumu’s dick, stroking him torturously slow. 

Sakusa’s trapped on the horns of dilemma. He can’t leave without making himself known—he’d have to pass directly by them to exit the locker room—and staying risks him being caught like the moral degenerate that he is.

Trapped might be the wrong word, though. That would imply he’s not enjoying the view. And he is.

Sakusa caresses his dick from where it’s trapped in his track pants.

Very much.

“How does it feel to be put into your place, Miya Atsumu?” Sakusa’s grip on his crotch tightens as Ushijima threads one hand through a fistful of blonde hair and pulls, while he lays his other hand across his lower back and pushes down, removing the contact from his dick. Atsumu makes these pathetic little  _ Ah, ah, ah _ noises as his back arches impossibly far. Ushijima’s hand looks unrealistically large laying across Atsumu’s back, proportionately dwarfing Atsumu’s trim waist.

“It—hurts,” Atsumu gasps. He keens as Ushijima withdraws until he’s almost pulled out completely, then screams as he snaps his hips back forward. “H-hurts so~ good,” he pants, moans extending his  _ o. _ He turns his head and bites his bottom lip, whimpering as Ushijima grinds, twisting his cock deliciously from where it’s planted in his hole.

“That’s what I thought,” Ushijima replies, voice impossibly low, taking on a more... predatory edge. 

This might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Intuitively, he knows he should be feeling some sort of envy seeing two frequent subjects of his fantasies together. Without him.

Somehow, it rockets him closer to the edge than ever.

Ushijima suddenly stops, taking his hand away. He ignores Atsumu’s wails as he loses his release. “Wakatoshi, I was so  _ close—!“ _

Sakusa swallows down both a laugh and a moan. A laugh, at seeing that Atsumu is just as bratty in bed as he is in person, and a moan, at realizing Atsumu can _come untouched._

Atsumu makes a filthy gagging noise as Ushijima shoves his fingers down his throat, then stuffs just the tip of his cock back inside. “You won’t come unless I say so. And do I have to remind you of your punishment?” He sounds amused.

_ Punishment? _ That piques Sakusa’s interest. He breathes a little faster, finally slipping his fingers underneath the elastic of his briefs.

Atsumu’s eyes widen. He makes a muffled sound that’s equal parts fearful and turned on.

Then, so quick that Sakusa barely has time to comprehend it, Ushijima spins Atsumu around and hoists him up by the thighs, slamming him against the wall. Atsumu scrambles for purchase, immediately hooking his ankles together and grasping Ushijima’s shoulders for dear life, but he’s soon distracted as Ushijima slowly starts to enter him again.

Sakusa feels both relief and disappointment that Atsumu’s eyes are squeezed shut, brows knit together so tight there’s a wrinkle in between them. He kind of wants to touch him, to smooth it out, to comfort him.

Now, Sakusa doesn’t have time to unpack all of that, so instead, he’ll just think about how the tear tracks running down Atsumu's face might taste on his tongue.

“Fuck yourself onto me,” Ushijima commands.

“No—too much, I can’t—“ Atsumu’s voice cracks as Ushijima thrusts his hips upward.

Ushijima noses into his neck. “You can, and you will,” he growls.

There’s a short pause where the only audible sounds are their breaths, desperate and intermingled.

Atsumu lets out these anguished little hiccups as he forces himself downwards, bit by bit. 

“Good boy,” Ushijima assures.

Atsumu lets out an unabashed moan, sinking a little further this time.

_ Of course. He’s a masochist with a praise kink, _ Sakusa thinks.

It does not take long before Ushijima gets impatient. “You can go faster than that.”

“Won’t fit,” Atsumu breathes. “Feels bigger.”

“Same cock, different angle. Don’t be dramatic.” Ushijima’s voice leaves no room for argument.

“Fine,” Atsumu snaps, breaking character. “Yes, I need help—“

Ushijima moves his hands from where they’re holding Atsumu underneath his thighs to the small of his back and slams his hips upwards, letting gravity do all the work as he fully bottoms out.

_ Jesus Christ.  _ Sakusa knows from experience that Ushijima has quite the girth.  _ And  _ he knows how to use it.

Atsumu screams, and his eyes finally open—and oh, his expression goes from one of pain to one of ecstasy to one of shock because he’s—

He’s looking directly at the mirror. Where a maskless Sakusa is looking. Where he watches them from behind a row of lockers. Where he’s got one hand stuck down his pants, stroking himself to full hardness.

They make direct-indirect eye contact.

Atsumu turns bright red, a full-body flush, ashamed. But he doesn’t look away. He’s defenseless.

Sakusa smirks and brings his index finger to his lips, making a  _ shush  _ motion.

Atsumu frowns, opening that big mouth of his to respond, or maybe to blow his cover.

And then Ushijima starts to move.

Atsumu lets out a guttural sound from the back of his throat, his eyes rolling back as his head lolls forward. After a moment he jerks upward as if remembering Sakusa, making a pained expression into the mirror. He looks conflicted, maybe trying to choose between getting fucked in front of someone who’s getting off on it, or stopping the mind-blowing sex he’s currently having.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” Ushijima’s voice is low and steady.

Atsumu stiffens in his hold, sculpted thighs flexing around his waist.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten…” A warning.

“No.” Atsumu’s reply is hasty and yet, powerless. “I haven’t.”

“We’ll do five, for the point difference in our practice match. You’ll count.”

“Wait, wait—Wakatoshi—“ Atsumu stutters. “You’ll go easy on me, r-right?”

Ushijima is silent for a moment. “...Don’t come,” he orders.

And then, carefully supporting Atsumu’s weight against the wall with one arm, he winds the other back and smacks his ass with a vengeance.

The sound reverberates throughout the room, a metallic echo off the lockers. Ushijima does not hold back, and his hips don’t stop either.

_ Christ. _

“One!” Atsumu shouts, abandoning any composure he might have.

Ushijima withdraws a large palm and strikes his ass again, the other cheek this time.

“T-two!”

Ushijima hits him, and then silences Atsumu with a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue into his mouth without hesitation. Atsumu moans into it, reciprocating before pulling away in misery.

“...” Atsumu mumbles something unintelligible, a string of spit still connecting the two, looking at Sakusa in the mirror.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.” 

Embarrassed, Atsumu buries his face into Ushijima’s shoulder. “...Three,” he whispers.

“What was that?” Ushijima asks. He pauses his brutal fucking, making small circular motions with his hips, teasing him without mercy. “I still can’t hear.” 

Atsumu looks up in shock, trying to defend himself. “Three! W-Wakatoshi, please—“

“We’ll have to start over. No worries, I’ll count for you.”

Even Sakusa is hesitant. Ushijima is the national team’s southpaw powerhouse. The force he’s afflicting on Atsumu’s ass is something else.

Atsumu chokes. “It hurts, it hurts so much, I-I can’t keep this up for much longer—!“

“Color?”

Atsumu freezes.

“Your color, Atsumu,” Ushijima repeats, forcing Atsumu’s hand.

Looking back up into the mirror, eyes unfocused, he hesitates before his expression softens. “Green,” he says, so quiet Sakusa can barely hear.

Sakusa’s heart races. Ushijima lured Atsumu into admitting his desire and it was effortless. He shudders with  _ want. _

Ushijima hums. “What a whore.” He draws his hand back again. “Cute.”

**Smack.**

“One.” Ushijima resumes the pistoning of his hips.

**Smack.**

“Two.” Atsumu smothers his cries into Ushijima’s shoulder.

**Smack.**

“Three.” Sakusa can’t help it. He licks his lips as his hand gets faster and faster, swiping the thumb over his slit.

**Smack.**

“Four.” Finally, a crack in Ushijima’s picture-perfect composure. He moans as Atsumu tightens around him.

**Smack.**

“Five.”

Sakusa is getting quite the show.

Atsumu is shaking, twitching uncontrollably, face blissed out. His ass is stained red from being spanked. His legs are strained, close to falling from where they’re wrapped around Ushijima.

He won’t last much longer.

Ushijima seems to agree. “You can come, Atsumu.” He resumes his violent pace, now snapping his hips upwards while yanking Atsumu down onto his cock.

Sakusa can only imagine how deep he’s going. He must be bruising Atsumu’s insides.

Atsumu can’t even speak anymore, Ushijima’s dick rendering him speechless.

“I can’t believe you.” Ushijima sounds so  _ determined. _ “You’re so tight, wrapped around me so shamelessly. You act all cocky when you just need someone to bring you down to where you belong. Now look at you. All you can do is take it. Take it like the fucktoy you were meant to be.”

Atsumu stares at the mirror intensely. “C-coming,” he starts, voice hoarse. “Coming! I’m coming— _ Omi!”  _ he screams. 

Sakusa’s hand pauses from where it’s flying on his cock, staring unabashedly as Atsumu gets the dicking of his life. He doesn’t dare look away. He doesn’t even mind the loss of his climax. All he can do is watch as Atsumu comes, sobbing, mouthing his name over and over again.  _ Omi, omi, omi. _

Wakatoshi doesn’t pay any mind to the fact that Atsumu is crying out another man’s name. He fucks into that tight ring of muscle even as Atsumu clenches down, forcing him open, over and over and over again.

Ushijima only stops when Atsumu’s legs give out from around him, slowly kneeling to the ground so he doesn’t injure himself. He apologizes as Atsumu hisses from the feeling of his sore ass meeting the ground. He doesn’t pull out either, merely kneeling in between Atsumu’s spread legs as he groans.

Just when Sakusa thinks Ushijima’s about to keep going, he speaks up.

“Kiyoomi. Would you like to join us?”

This is an invitation he can’t turn down. Sakusa slowly steps out from behind the lockers. “I don’t know,” he muses, cock still hard. “I was enjoying the view.” 

Atsumu is slack-jawed and speechless, squirming in Ushijima’s lap, trying to get up, trying to get  _ out _ from where he’s boxed him in. Ushijima frowns and pinches one of his nipples, making him squeal in surprise. “Stop that.”

“Wh-why aren’t you—” Atsumu can’t find the words, just settling on a  _ guh?  _ sound. “Why aren’t you  _ doing  _ anything?”

Ushijima doesn’t react.

Atsumu freezes. “Y-you knew? This whole time?”

“Who do you think told him to come?”

_ "Why?"  _ Atsumu implores.

"Don't ask me why. I've seen the way you look at each other."

Sakusa _ had  _ thought it a bit cryptic when Ushijima texted him,  _ We need to talk. Locker room, 20 minutes. _ He was truly considering blowing him off. He was exhausted and knew Ushijima would understand, especially when Iwaizumi told him he needed to take it easy after practice.

_ Sorry Iwaizumi-san. This was worth it. _

Atsumu, at a loss, hides his flushed face in Ushijima’s neck.

“Hey. None of that, now,” Sakusa croons, nodding at Ushijima.

Against his will, Ushijima turns again, manhandling Atsumu so that he’s sat in his lap facing Sakusa, nowhere to hide. With kiss swollen lips and half-lidded eyes, he stares up at him. Atsumu goes limp and his eyes drop down to the ground. “I thought you hated me.”

The words stop Sakusa in his tracks. They’re not accusatory, but they sting that way anyway. “...No. I never did.” He bows his head in a silent apology. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“You… do you want me?” Atsumu asks, disbelief echoing loud and clear.

Sakusa doesn’t want to answer that question, but Ushijima nods, encouraging him, pushing him further. “I do.”

Atsumu blinks tears out of his eyes.  _ “Oh.” _ And he sounds so small.

Ushijima gives a small smile, proud and self-satisfied. “Both of us do,” Ushijima whispers, pressing chaste, open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

With Atsumu’s back against Ushijima’s chest, Sakusa kneels down on the floor between his thighs, prepared to lay worship to the man before him, to repent for his sins. He knows, on some level, that the locker room floor is filthy, but that’s all far away. All he can think about is how  _ soft _ Atsumu’s skin looks. Entranced, Sakusa swipes his fingers through the spurts of cum that have pooled on Atsumu’s stomach, ignoring the way he jerks at the touch. It’s a strange consistency, but he can’t say he hates it.

Bashful, Atsumu hides his cock and with his thighs, hiking his knees up to his chest, and then crossing his ankles in front of his hole. Part of this, perhaps, is the fact that he’s as naked as the day he was born, while Ushijima has his pants on and Sakusa is still fully dressed. This doesn’t deter Sakusa at all, who just grabs his knees and spreads them wide.

Atsumu's arms twitch forward as if trying to stop him, but Ushijima catches this, pulling both of his arms behind his back. He bends them, coaxing him to grab his own elbows. “Keep them there,” he whispers. “Can you do that, Atsumu? Can you be good for us?”

He hesitates, but his body answers before he does, pupils dilating until they’re blown out. “...Okay,” he answers.

Sakusa, finally able to vocalize his appreciation, moans.  _ How obedient of him. _

With both his arms free, Ushijima snakes his hands around Atsumu’s torso to twist one of his petite, pink nipples.  _ They’re like a girl’s, _ Sakusa can’t help but think, watching, fascinated, as they swell up underneath Ushijima’s dexterous fingers.

“... Don’t look,” Atsumu whimpers.

Sakusa can’t help it. He laughs. “So  _ now _ you’re shy.” Still, he does as he says, tearing his attention away from his chest so he can caress his inner thighs.

_ “Fuck.”  _ Atsumu arches his back, his thighs twitching inward in temptation before he spreads them  _ further.  _ Sakusa knows for a fact he runs cold, and Atsumu is so, so warm. His fingers must feel like ice on his skin. “Fuck.”

Ushijima’s voice is rich and velvety as he instructs Sakusa. “Go ahead. He’s quite sensitive there.” 

“Mm…” Then Sakusa leans down and  _ bites. _

“Ah~!”

_ Would you look at that, Atsumu’s cock is filling out again. What an insane refractory period.  _ Sakusa switches from biting to sucking now, cataloguing each and every sound coming from Atsumu’s mouth.

“Warn a guy, would you?” Atsumu gripes despite the fact his hips are still jerking towards Sakusa’s mouth. He squirms, taking both the stimulation of Ushijima’s hands and Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa rolls his eyes and bites again, harder. He’s not satisfied until there’s a decent constellation of bite marks and blooming bruises. When he pulls away, Atsumu’s eyes are glazed and unseeing, tears spilling over. “Omi…” he whispers. Lacking impulse control, Sakusa leans down and laps up his tears, savoring the taste of salt on his tongue.

Once he’s had his fill, Sakusa moves on to Atsumu’s lips, assaulting his mouth like he’s wanted to for years. He takes his time, too. God, every single time the Black Jackals had a photo op and he stuck out his tongue—that  _ godforsaken _ tongue— 

“I think we’ve teased him enough.” Ushijima’s baritone vibrates through Atsumu’s chest and Sakusa finally pulls away.

“Do you think he needs more prep?” Sakusa asks.

“I doubt it. You could probably slip right in.”

Atsumu closes his eyes. His ass is still pink from being spanked, cock is so red it looks angry, and Sakusa can’t help the thrill he feels when he realizes Atsumu is  _ enjoying  _ this. Enjoying the detached, objectifying way they talk about him like he’s not even there, even as Ushijima gropes his chest. “It’s true,” Atsumu tacks on, surrendering his body completely.

Sakusa and Ushijima groan in tandem this time.

“You’re obscene,” Ushijima murmurs.

“And you drive me _crazy,”_ Sakusa hisses, fumbling with the waist of his pants. He’s so hard that his cock springs out, gently bouncing, as he yanks down the elastic past his hips.

Atsumu visibly stiffens as Ushijima nods in appreciation. He and Ushijima have hooked up many times over the years, so there are no surprises to be had there, but the way Atsumu’s mouth practically waters at the sight of his dick?

Well. It’s flattering. He knows his dick is long, and it’s got a curve to it that makes things interesting, so it’s nice to have that reaffirmed.

Ushijima pulls out a condom from his back pocket and tosses it in Sakusa’s direction. He catches it without much difficulty, tearing it open with his teeth. While he puts on the condom, Ushijima physically turns Atsumu’s head to the side, kissing him sloppily. He’s commanding and headstrong, almost leaving Atsumu struggling to breathe.

Sakusa strokes himself a few times, unable to help himself, turned on beyond belief at the sight. When he teases Atsumu’s hole with the tip, Atsumu’s eyes fly open and he struggles to pull away from where his mouth is preoccupied. Ushijima reluctantly lets him.

“Please... be gentle,” Atsumu begs, panting, eyelashes wet with tears.

_ We'll see. _ Sakusa is  _ ready,  _ the tip pressed so close to Atsumu's hole that he can feel him tense up before forcing himself to relax with an exhale.

But then something occurs to him.

“Wait.” Sakusa frowns, pulling away despite Atsumu's frustrated whine. He caresses his thighs in apology. “Ushijima, have you come yet?”

“... No.” Sakusa likes to consider himself an expert on Wakatoshi's microexpressions. Right now, he's very clearly trying to come off as nonchalant when he's wound up so taut he might explode.

“No?” Sakusa asks, incredulous.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Atsumu explodes, finally taking his arms out from behind himself, his own need forgotten.

Ushijima seems nonplussed. “You two are enjoying yourselves. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sakusa and Atsumu exchange a look. Sure, reconciling with each other was important, but neither of them liked Ushijima and his big dick any _ less. _

“Listen. There’s a way we can _all_ be happy.”

* * *

This is how Atsumu ends up on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth, Sakusa balls-deep in his ass and Ushijima’s cock lodged down his throat. Finally, they’ve all disposed of their clothing, Atsumu demanding they do so if he’s going to be in such a vulnerable position. 

Fair enough.

Sakusa’s got his hands wrapped around Atsumu’s waist and Ushijima’s got a hand in Atsumu’s hair. (Sakusa understands, now that he’s gotten his turn. The locks are light and fluffy now that Atsumu knows how to properly take care of his hair.)

Sakusa leans forward so his chest lays across Atsumu’s back. “You doing alright?” he asks, doing his best to sound smug and genuinely concerned at the same time. Atsumu can only moan around Ushijima, making him curse underneath his breath at the vibrations. Atsumu backs up even further onto Sakusa and almost goes boneless. “Good,” Sakusa says, kissing the nape of his neck.

Sakusa rights himself and loses himself in the sensations surrounding him. The feeling of his hips slapping against Atsumu. The slick noise of Atsumu's mouth around Ushijima. The scent, heady and intoxicating, of all three of them mixing in the air.

He couldn’t be more content.

...Well, almost.

Turning the tables, Sakusa grabs Ushijima by the back of the head, startling him into letting go of Atsumu. He tugs him forward by the hair and smashes their lips together, messy and passionate. 

He can feel Atsumu tense beneath them, forced to  _ feel _ them both as they stop thrusting, burying themselves deeper into him and staying there in their quest to get closer.

Finally, they pull away, resuming their fucking at a much more languid pace.

“Thank you, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima only smiles in return.

“Shall we finish this?”

Ushijima hums his assent. “Yes.”

Sakusa caresses Atsumu’s lower back, the scope of his own affection incomprehensible to himself. “We’re going to take care of you, okay ‘Tsumu? Lift your hand if you need to stop.”

Atsumu gives a muffled moan.

Sakusa and Ushijima suddenly start to fuck him at a relentless pace at either side, choking and overstimulating him until he's in tears.

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings: objectifying dirty talk, dom/sub stuff goin' on, consensual non-consent (someone says no and doesn't actual mean it, but there's a safe word system in place), dubious consent for voyeurism and exhibitionism (everyone wants each other, but the way they get around to it is... questionable), and one (one) occurrence of feminization. please let me know if i missed anything.
> 
> disappointed i didn't get any bottomi or bottom ushijima in here but there was enough going on as is. maybe i'll write a sequel some day, who knows. comments are greatly appreciated, not super confident in my smut skills so let me know what you think.
> 
> goodbye—!


End file.
